


The Only Treasure

by tearsandholdme



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anxiety, Derek's POV, Domestic Fluff, Kid Fic, M/M, Mpreg, Overprotective Derek, Romance, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-13
Updated: 2014-07-13
Packaged: 2018-02-08 16:49:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1948770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tearsandholdme/pseuds/tearsandholdme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek gave up on the idea of family a long time ago. Then Stiles came along with bright smiles and a wit he couldn't match to change all that. Four years later, he's standing in the hallway, a pregnancy stick in hand and a grin on his face. </p><p>"We have a winning sperm!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Only Treasure

**Author's Note:**

> I've taken to doing prompts and doing this instead instead of multi-chaptered for once. Spreading my wings so to speak.
> 
> I don't do Derek's POV a lot so it was nice to do something different for once. I normally do Stiles. 
> 
> Sorry for any mistakes. (:

It was incredible how something so small could change your whole day or better yet, your whole life with just one sentence. Stiles had cornered him the moment he came in from work one day in July, his eyes bright, his scent heady with happiness and anticipation. His hands were behind his back and he smiled brightly at him the whole time he was hanging up his coat and dropping off his bag. 

“Stiles?” he questioned, raising his eyebrows at him in question. Stiles bit his lip gently before bringing his hand around to hold up a white pregnancy test. Derek took a moment to stare at it and zero in on the positive sign. The words **positive** beamed back at him stealing his breath and setting his heart racing. Derek had never had a panic attack before but he was pretty sure he was having one at that moment. 

“I'm pregnant,” he said softly. “We have a winning sperm!”

Derek was sure his whole life was flashing before his eyes. For four years they had been careful. Pills, injections, condoms, they weren't ready for pups and they dealt with Stiles' heat every two months as they normally would. That had been acknowledged when they first got together officially. Pups were for later, everything was really. Marriage, pups, the whole nine yards was for when they settled. Like now they had jobs, a house, a good relationship built on trust, bond, love, something he never imagined having. Not before Stiles, Stiles was everything he never imagined having. His mate, his omega, he was so beautiful, vibrant, loud, loving, and like an explosion in his life. 

The moment he crashed into his life, literally splashed hot coffee over his favorite white shirt, Derek wanted him. His rambling, his loud gestures, his pleas of apology were the first things he said to him before he begged to do his washing and buy him another coffee. It was a primal urge, his wolf immediately reacted to him, knew he was the one. His human side thought differently and at first he was furious for him with a side of irritation. 

Not that it lasted of course. Derek accepted his apologies, accepted his phone number when he passed it on, accepted the text messages, the coffee date, and four years later here they were. It wasn't simple as that and it took work. Work on both their parts to get what they wanted and for Derek to allow himself to love again. Loving Stiles was hard work but so worth it in the end. 

Now though, disbelief ran over him and he sucked in a deep breath taking the stick off him. Stiles stepped closer to him, his fingers brushing against his forearm and up to his neck gently. He was baring his throat to him in a way that made him growl tugging him closer, his hand wrapping around his waist in a vice like grip. Derek sucked in a deep breath before meeting his wide brown eyes.

“You're never leaving the house again.”

“Funny,” Stiles commented, his hand brushing against his stomach in a reassuring gesture. “You're happy, right? I know this is so sudden! It explains my moods lately though, I just felt weird and high strung. Plus nauseous as hell and I'm off coffee at the moment so I thought...what the hell! It's positive and you're the first to know.”

“Well I'm glad about that and,” he said, trailing off with a slow shake of his head. “Of course I'm happy, Stiles, why wouldn't I be?” 

“Because we didn't plan for this...”

“That doesn't matter,” he murmured slowly. His hand cupped the back of his head so his fingers threaded through his hair to angle his head and kiss him. Stiles smiled against his lips, his arms looping around his neck to deepen their kiss to suit him. There was a sweetness to his mouth that was addictive, something he could latch onto when he stroked his tongue against his. Stiles whined weakly underneath him, his hands gripping his shirt tight so he hauled him closer to him. Impossibly close. 

Derek was happy, he could feel it under his skin, his wolf was smug, prideful, his mate was carrying his pup. But there was fear, like a dark shadow over the happiness, something so small, so precious and fragile was coming into the world. He had lost too much, had too much taken away from him. It wasn't just Stiles to protect and look after no longer and with Stiles now pregnant, his vulnerability hit the roof. All of it made him want to tuck Stiles away into a padded room and make sure no one could hurt him. His job didn't help the matter.

Stiles was a training deputy. Derek didn't work, not with the money he had tucked away in his bank accounts. They were set comfortably for life but Stiles didn't want that, he wanted an honest living and to get out of the house every day. Not that he could ever sit still, it wasn't like him to sit still. 

“What will you do about your work?” he murmured to him that night.

“What?” Stiles questioned sleepily. His head tucked under his chin, Derek trailed his hand up and down his bare back slowly, the skin soft and warm under his fingertips. 

“Work, it's...dangerous,” he whispered. 

“You're joking, right? Oh come on,” Stiles answered. His head tilted back to look at him fully in the face. “It's my job, something I've done for the past six weeks while being pregnant. Did anything happen? Nope! I think I'm fine.”

“It's different now!”

“What, because we know? Please,” Stiles snorted lying back down. “You're being paranoid.”

“It's a dangerous job.”

“Don't I know it,” Stiles murmured unfazed. Derek pressed his lips together tight and kept his mouth shut. It was doing more damage then it's worth but he had every right to panic over him. If anything happened to him, the idea of it terrified him to his core. The swirling consuming darkness of his paranoia and fear swarmed over him. It wouldn't stop, it would never stop, not after the fire, not after losing so many people. His family niggled in the back of his mind. His mom, his dad, his little cousins, Peter's wife, Laura, all there and the ache burned. Derek exhaled harshly into Stiles' hair, his arms pulling him closer. Stiles snuffled in his sleep and settled without a care in the world. 

Derek was anxious throughout the night and well into the morning watching Stiles dress for work. He was a whirlwind of activity as he dressed and ate toast. 

“Stop looking so constipated! It's work, I promise you I will be okay,” he pleaded, hands pressing into his shoulders. “I love you.”

“I love you,” Derek confirmed, his lips pressing against his. Stiles smacked his ass gently, his lips twitching into a grin before he headed out to his car. Derek watched from the window, his wolf anxious under his skin as he did. 

Coffee didn't settle him, his morning shower and run did nothing to appease him. His worry was fixed on Stiles and he dragged a hand through his hair pacing. It was ridiculous, he couldn't lock him down because Stiles was so dependent and vicious when provoked. Derek would never do anything to upset him but by lunch time he had grabbed his car keys. His fingers tapped against the steering wheel repetitively until he arrived outside the station and slammed the door behind him hard.

“Derek,” Kimberly cried joyfully when he walked in. “Looking for Stiles?”

“Yeah, is he here?” 

“Office,” she smiled indicating with her head.

“Thanks,” he mumbled walking down the corridor to the office he knew well. Stiles was sitting at his desk and pulling chips out of a packet, his eyes fixed on the computer screen. 

“Derek,” Stiles said surprised. “What are you doing here?” 

He didn't answer walking over to him and pulling him into his feet, his face moving into his neck to inhale differently. The scent of apples, ink, soap, and something sweet hit his senses. It instantly calmed him down, his wolf appeased and purring deep within him, his heart stopped racing so much. 

“Okay, so I seriously underestimated this,” Stiles mumbled. 

“Sorry,” Derek whispered.

“No, no, no, it's fine,” he whispered in return. “I knew you were panicking but...”

Stiles didn't continue, his hands pressed against his lower back carefully. Derek didn't know what to say and instead kept his silence breathing him in and out. It worked a lot easier that way. 

“This is my job, Derek, I work odd shifts now and again, I help get the bad guys, I save a few people now and again. I earn a wage!”

“I have money.”

“That's your money.”

“Our money!” he argued. “I married you, everything I have and own is equally yours. You don't have to work.”

“That,” Stiles argued, pointing a finger in his face. “Is the argument rich people have. I like this job! You know I like research! Just because I'm carrying our baby does not mean the whole army is going to come out and get us. Or a massive pack will come tearing into the Hills.”

Derek did his best to glare at him until Stiles shot him a sheepish expression instead. 

“That's not funny.”

“It's a little funny...”

“Stiles,” Derek muttered exasperated. “Please take this seriously.”

“I am, you're being the overprotective loser here! I am six weeks, six, Derek, which means I have so many months till little Hale is here. I am not sitting on my ass for eight months. I can't! I'll go insane, freaking insane!” 

“You could decorate like you keep saying you want to do?”

“Oh yeah because decorating is going to last eight months!” 

“Could make it last,” he suggested weakly. It was lost on Stiles who swallowed, his mouth tightening and Derek could sense the argument brimming. If Stiles won, it meant a week on the couch and he really couldn't face that. “I just worry. It's not like you're working in a store, Stiles. You're working in the police force. It's dangerous.”

“I've been training for this for years!”

“I know.”

Stiles closed his eyes leaning back in his chair and inhaled in and out deeply. He reopened them to focus on him intently.

“Compromise, we have to come to that.”

“I can work with that.”

“I have to work, maybe not every day, maybe I can cut my hours down. But when I work, you back off. You let me do my job,” he said gently. “I'm pregnant, not an invalid, nothing is going to hurt me or hurt our baby. Okay?”

“Okay,” he agreed. Stiles sighed deeply scrubbing a hand down his face. 

“I'll take the afternoon off,” he murmured standing up. “I'll go speak to my dad.”

“Does he know?”

“No, no, I thought we'd tell everyone at the same time when it becomes more obvious I'm pregnant. Stay here, I'll be right back.”

It wasn't fully what he wanted but he didn't want to argue it. Stiles got the afternoon off and they ended up back in the house on the couch. Derek didn't want to let go of him for one moment and Stiles didn't either. Not even when he curled into him, his lips curled in a small smile as they shared small kisses, brushes of their lips together every so often. Derek kissed down the line of his jaw slowly, his fingers brushing against his neck and collarbone. Here when it was just the two of them, they could lose themselves into each other without a care in the world. Stiles grinned chuckling when he found a ticklish spot and he moved up brushing his nose against his. 

“I love you,” Derek whispered, his hand sliding across his stomach.

“I love you more,” he murmured, pressing his lips to the corner of his mouth. 

“Not possible.”

Stiles smirked, his teeth nipping at his jaw instead. Derek sucked a mark into his neck listening to his soft gasps and pleased moans filling the air. The mark quickly faded and he wished they would linger, even if for a longer moment. He made his way down his body to press against the flatness of his navel. His lips pressed over his belly button and even there he could faint the smell of pregnancy. Sweet, nurturing, like mother's milk, and he hummed softly delighted. 

“You're like a puppy,” Stiles complimented him, his mouth tilted up amused. “Get up here. I know you're going to take care of us. You don't need to worry, okay?”

“Okay,” Derek agreed for him. He did have to worry, he would always have to worry. Because it was their world and their world was scary.

*

With Stiles' pregnancy came the morning sickness. The early morning rises and heavy smell of vomit each morning was stomach turning. Stiles was always miserable afterward. If he wasn't throwing up, he was eating anything and everything out of the cupboards. Derek came one home one evening to find him cross legged on the couch, a jar of pickled eggs in between his thighs and a massive bottle of strawberry milkshake in his hand. 

“Stiles,” he began but trailed off. “I have no words.”

“But you're disgusted, right?”

“There's no way I am kissing you.”

“It's not my fault! I was craving them like...mad! I walked all the way to the store for these babies,” Stiles gestured the egg at him to prove his point. “I'm craving weird shit. It's the baby, not me.”

“Your body.”

“We're sharing now!”

“You're an idiot,” he murmured fondly.

“But you love me,” Stiles sang popping one into his mouth. “So much!”

“I question why sometimes,” he muttered, turning around and heading upstairs for a shower. Not that he ever did question but he liked to say he did. It was just the start of Stiles' weird cravings and in the end he just got used to them. When he woke up at five in the morning craving Kentucky fried chicken and pleaded with whimpers and whines for him to drive him to get some. Derek did so with heavy sighs and promises to make him pay for doing so. Stiles smiled a big smile and thanked him with kisses and trails of his fingers down the side of his face. 

They told the rest of the pack, including his father and Melissa who sat side by side holding hands when he was twelve weeks pregnant. Not that it was a surprise since the scent of pregnancy was all he could smell on Stiles these days. But they acted surprised and offered their congratulations to them both. Scott tugged Stiles into a big hug, words whispered into his ear so Stiles chuckled nodding. Derek didn't know what was said but he ignored it instead to brush his hand against the side of Erica's head. Her acceptance shown in the flash of her eyes. 

“Pregnant,” John Stilinski muttered with a quick shake of his head. “I thought this would be years back!”

“Dad!” Stiles exclaimed embarrassed, his hand wound around his waist when he joined him. 

“What? I'm serious, I want to know what it's like to be a grandpa!”

“God, there's me thinking he'll freak out,” Stiles mumbled, smacking his hand to his forehead. “You're seriously okay with this?”

“Stiles, you're twenty two, mated and in a fully functioning relationship with a man who I know who will look after you both,” he said, nodding his head at Derek who smiled softly in acknowledgement. “I'm happy for you.”

“Aw, daddy,” he cried running towards him for a hug. His dad sighed and rolled his eyes playfully but returned the hug anyway. Derek wrapped his arms back around him when he returned, he pressed his lips to his temple in a gentle kiss. They moved on around the evening leaving the two of them alone. Just how they liked it. Derek was holding Stiles close as they watched a cookery show and refused to let him go.

“I want a bath,” Stiles murmured much later. “Move, I need warm water.”

“I can run you one?”

“Cute, no you always make it too hot,” Stiles cried, pressing his lips against his before shoving him out of the way. Derek frowned but let him go to wander upstairs, his eyes drifted to the television were he listened to him stumbling around upstairs. The show was mind numbingly boring and he left tossing the remote on the couch. Stiles was submerged in bubbles and steaming water when he walked in. 

“Hey, lover,” Stiles drawled happily.

“Lover?”

“I'm trying out new nicknames, snuggle bear.”

“Okay, stop,” Derek warned, sitting on the toilet seat. 

“Why, my dumpling?” Stiles teased, his hand flicking the water and bubbles towards him. “Okay, okay, I'm sorry, I'll stop. You don't mind when I call you baby though, your ears go pink.”

“That's an okay name, occasionally.”

“Knew you loved it,” Stiles winked. “Especially when I am whispering it in your ear.” 

His nose twitched as he fought down a smile and left Stiles to soak in the bath. He was laid out on their bed when Stiles walked in wearing nothing but a towel.

“Look at this,” Stiles cried, turning on his side to point at his slight bump. “Our baby.”

“It's beautiful,” he murmured gently. “You're beautiful.”

“Oh smooth talker,” Stiles murmured letting his towel drop. Derek caught him when he came over and climbed into his lap, his arms warm and damp when they wound around his neck. “Words like that and I'm like putty in your hands, big man.”

“You're ridiculous.” 

He stroked his hands down his back slowly till they cupped his ass gently bringing him closer. Stiles' eyes flashed gold at him, the heavy scent of arousal hitting him when he kissed his throat gently. His teeth nipped at his throat so he whined exposing it.

“Oh god, I want you,” Stiles groaned, his hands fitting to his shoulders, his hips grinding down against his. Derek smirked against his jaw, his fingers probing in between the cheeks to feel the beginnings of his slick. It was wet against his fingertips as he rubbed the hole gently, his finger pushing in so Stiles moaned loudly.

“You're so desperate for me,” Derek murmured watching him closely.

“Yeah, twenty four seven horny, remember?” he gasped grinding down on his finger. “Derek, fuck me, please.”

He never let him plead too much, not while he was desperate and panting for more. Derek hummed flipping him onto his back and making work of his clothes till he too was naked. Condoms weren't need and neither was lube when he fingered him open, a second finger pressed deep up inside of him.

“Fuck me, please,” Stiles whimpered, his leg tossing over his lower back. “Derek!”

“So impatient,” he whispered. “I'll take care of you, my little omega.”

The first push inside of him was always the best. Velvety tight heat welcomed him along with the slick slide when he began to thrust. Stiles claws made an appearance, the shallow cuts bleeding only for a moment before healing over his hips and back. Sex was never the same between them, some nights it was desperate and fast, the mattress protesting as they slammed into one another. Any other night it was slow and loving. 

“Oh my god, I love you, I love you,” Stiles chanted against his lips. “Come inside me, Derek!”

Derek silenced him with a hard kiss continuing to thrust into him harder each time. It was desperate and quick as usual when he felt the burning curl of his climax. It was over too soon when he grunted biting down hard into his neck. Stiles gasped below him, his body curling towards him when he climaxed untouched. 

“I love you,” Derek breathed. Stiles hummed pleased, his eyes shutting when he relaxed against the mattress sated and pleased. 

“We need a round two later,” Stiles muttered into his shoulder. “Then a round three. Yeah, don't give me that look, I'm horny and as my mate you need to satisfy your pregnant mate needs now don't you?”

“You're an ass,” Derek muttered, tugging him into his arms. Stiles grinned nodding in agreement as he settled into them comfortably.

“Yep, but I'm yours.”

*

With each passing week, Stiles bloomed more and more into his pregnancy. He was a beacon to any passing werewolf he was with his child. From his glow to his scent, so thick with sweetness that Derek was addicted to the smell of it. His slight frame meant his abdomen thickened quicker and bloomed larger. It was one thing to watch him grow but a whole other to hear the heartbeat beating fast inside of him. Derek enjoyed touching him whenever they were alone, his hands moving and stroking over the warm bump. Feeling the life growing inside of him every chance he got. 

When he wasn't with Stiles, he was out keeping an eye on the area. Making sure no one was coming into their territory. Derek was also keeping an eye on the Argents. Uneasy alliance or not, he had a pup coming into the world and an vulnerable mate. The alliance only mattered when they stayed away and didn't come near them. 

“Dude, get your feet out of my lap!” Scott cried, nudging Stiles' feet off his lap. Derek glanced up from his book to look over at them. Stiles was grinning and Scott was shaking his head fondly. “See, now I'm dead!”

“Because you're shit!”

“You put your smelly feet in my lap!”

“Rude! Derek, tell him I don't have smelly feet,” Stiles cried, tossing a throw cushion at Scott.

“Not getting involved, Stiles.” 

“Whatever,” Stiles pouted. His gaze was fixed back on the television and Derek refocused on the story amused. Tomorrow they had the scan for the baby were they would be finding out the sex. It was a mutual decision and he knew Stiles was desperate to start decorating the nursery for the little one. When he wasn't in work he was bored stiff. There was grunts and Scott whined from time to time in the background every time his character died. Scott was the only one around today, normally the rest of the pack would dwindle in and out of the house but not today.

“Cinema, I didn't want to watch it without Stiles,” he explained when he questioned it.

“Hey, not my fault popcorn makes me queasy. Even the smell of it, you saw how I was on movie night when Erica brought in the greasy buttery shit!” Stiles shuddered tossing his head. “Nasty, but that's why you're my best bud and when I have this little one. We'll go, just you and me.”

Scott smiled returning the high five that Stiles held up. 

“Scared about labor?”

“Freaking terrified, dude you know how much I hate blood! Plus you see all these women screaming on television,” Stiles answered, tossing the control aside.

“Hey, you know I'll be there every step of the way,” Derek interrupted. Stiles met his eyes with a small private smile.

“I know that, Derek, but it's still scary, still something I have to do a few months time! You've got to be glad you're an alpha, Scott, seriously, or are you and Allison...?” he suggested, nudging him in the ribs.

“No, no, no, god we only got married nine months ago. Least give it a chance!”

“Hey, you two are childhood sweethearts, it's got to count for something.”

“Whatever,” Scott murmured, waving a hand in his direction. “How about you have your baby first and we'll see what happens.”

“Like the gooey paternal feelings erupt?” Stiles suggested delighted.

“Exactly.” 

Derek kept his silence and focused on getting through his chapter instead of thinking tomorrow. It didn't help though and he did think about. It disturbed his sleep and he tossed and turned wondering if tomorrow he'd have son or daughter. It was a restless sleep and he was feeling it in the morning. Stiles was strangely quiet as he potted around the bedroom getting dressed and drinking orange juice. He wasn't prone to breakfast despite Derek's pleas for him to eat one piece of toast each morning. It was the most important meal after all. 

“Nervous?” Stiles asked once they were buckled in.

“No, yes, don't know what to pick on.”

“I'm the same, I mean we're actually finding out whether or not we have a little girl or a little boy. Please can we call her Daenerys if she is a girl?” he pleaded, hands pressed together so he huffed.

“We're not naming her that!”

“Look, I had a three day binge of Game of Thrones, Derek, and she is badass. She is a very sexy badass and I wish to name my child after her. I can call him Tywin, so help me god!” he hissed dramatically. “Or Jon Snow, I will do it.”

“I should get a book, how to break a mating bond and run away with the pup,” he suggested casually. Stiles gasped slapping a hand against his arm hard. “We're not calling our baby after something on a show. No way in hell.”

“Spoilsport!”

“No, realistic,” he said, turning into the surgery were the scan was taking place. “Can we go find out what junior is now?”

“Fine,” he huffed, unbuckling and climbing out of the car. Derek locked the car walking in after him while Stiles confirmed he was here and they waited it out. Stiles grabbed a magazine and sat down with a low groan, his hand rubbing his lower back gently. Derek placed his hand again and laced the pain away so he sighed in relief.

“Why I love you, you're better than any medication.”

“Thanks,” he muttered drily. 

The wait wasn't long when the doctor called them in. Stiles was ready to go when he yanked his shirt up and laid back. Derek stood by his side, his fingers trailing through the softness of Stiles' hair while he chatted onto the doctor. He answered the right questions and they both paused when the image of the baby came up. It was tiny, a thumping heart in the middle of the scene and small movements could be seen. Stiles whimpered, a tiny sound slipping from his lips and it drew Derek closer to him.

“Our baby,” Stiles whispered, turning his head to graze his lips against his stubble. “Doc, what's the sex? Can we know?”

“It's a boy,” the doctor confirmed. 

Everything inside of him seemed to lock down and freeze. Stiles swore loudly, a bubble of happy laughter erupting around him. His heart seemed to beat a little faster with this new information and the fully reality he was having a son hit him. It was overwhelming and brilliant and he cupped Stiles' jaw to kiss him. Stiles laughed softly against his lips, his eyes bright with happiness and love when he stared up at him.

“Our little baby boy, oh my god please tell me he looks like you.”

“No, you,” Derek whispered. “I want another pair of big brown eyes staring back at me every day.”

“You sappy fucker,” Stiles chuckled. His hand stroked against his cheek once more before he let go and jumped off the table to wipe the gel away. “Oh my god, I'm having images of a little boy running around. In the woods, playing with a soccer ball, oh my god! We need to tell everyone!”

“I'll send a text telling everyone to meet us at the house.”

Stiles was an excited jittery mess throughout the whole car ride. His hands stroked down his bump lovingly when he talked about first smiles, first laughs, the first day of school, when he was older. It was maddening but he listened anyway. The Sheriff and Melissa were at the house when they arrived. 

“Should I tell them or you?”

“You,” Derek decided. Stiles grinned getting out of the car and hurrying to the house. 

“IT'S A BOY!” Stiles shouted to them once he was inside the house. Derek snorted switching off the engine and walked inside at a regular pace.

“Oh we have a boy coming in,” Melissa said pleased. “Congratulations, sweetheart.”

“Thanks, Melissa.” 

The others arrived in due course and takeaway was ordered with a lot of pizza and fries in celebration.

“So, any names yet?” Lydia demanded. “It has to be a nice name.”

“What, because mine isn't?” Stiles mumbled through his mouthful of pizza.

“Don't talk with your mouth full,” John said sternly. Derek smirked when Stiles choked waving a hand out at him.

“I've read your birth certificate, it's appalling, no offense,” she said directly to John. “But it is.”

“None taken, Claudia picked the name and let me have the surname. We struggled with him having to say it never mind ourselves. It was only when he was two we decided to nickname his last name. It was a lot easier that way.”

“Here, here,” Stiles announced, grabbing his glass of apple juice and taking a big gulp. “No, we haven't, you'll all know when we want you to know. Hey, do we have anymore pepperoni.”

“Here, salads for a week after this,” Derek said, handing the box over.

“Oh how the tables have turned,” John chuckled. Stiles directed a glare at his dad before turning back to him and sticking his tongue out at him in retaliation. 

*

Derek had every right to worry. His worries all came to a dramatic climax when Stiles was seven and a half months pregnant. His drive to the store for more soda and dip ended up in the car being found at the store empty, blood on the interior, and Stiles missing. It was the panic that did it, his shift pulled through and he howled loudly into the evening sky. Scott's eyes flashed in retaliation and Isaac whimpered into his hand behind him. It was a call of distress and pain, everyone would be able to hear it and know he was suffering. His pregnant mate was missing and from the hot smell of gunpowder told him it was mostly likely hunters. 

“Get Argent on the phone,” he snarled to Scott who nodded quickly. “I want him found!”

To be near Chris Argent was enough to have his wolf ripple under his skin irritated and anxious. 

“It's not us, not my men anyway, but there was word of a bunch of hunters nearby. Amateurs, young and uneducated.”

“You didn't think to tell us?” he snapped furiously. 

“I didn't know they would come into Beacon Hills. No one would dare.”

“Well they have and they've taken Stiles and my baby! If anything happens to them...” he threatened stepping into his personal space. “You should have told me there was hunters in the area.” 

“We'll find them.”

“We better,” Derek hissed into his face before stepping back. The pack split up and the hunters were involved along with John who turned up pale and determined. It was Scott who eventually was able to find him on his GPS. 

“Dicks didn't think to turn it off,” he said, tossing it at Derek. The location wasn't far, an abandoned house way out of Beacon Hills was where Stiles' phone was. Whether or not Stiles was there was the question. Derek ran there with the pack behind him, the adrenaline pumped through his body to get there and to get to them. He was fully shifted by the time they arrived and he smashed the door clean off the hinges. The smell of gunpowder and panicked hearts hit him fully. Guns went off but he didn't care as he reached for the first one and didn't pause for one moment to think about it. His claws ripped into his throat and tore it out cleanly. The hunter died within seconds and he moved on sniffing the air, hunting for the two heartbeats.

Derek heard them in the basement when he tugged open the jarred door and hurried down the steps. It was pitch black around him, there was a muffled commotion at the back of the room as he used his vision to find them. Stiles was tucked into the corner of the room, his legs and hands bound in tape, his mouth gagged. He was curled protectively inwards to protect the bump. Blood and tears saturated the air when he made his way over and tore them away. 

“Derek,” Stiles gasped once the tape was removed and he pulled him into his arms. Stiles clung to him sucking in deep breaths, his heart was racing in his ears. Derek pulled back placing a hand over his heart and on the bump.

“The baby...”

“Fine, he's fine, they jumped in the parking lot. Knocked me clean out but I landed on my side and they just shoved me in here. Told me – told me to be quiet or they'd rip the baby out of me and give it to you as a present,” he whispered. Derek growled viciously bringing him back into his arms and breathing him in deeply. 

“We're going to the hospital just in case, don't argue,” he said when Stiles opened his mouth. “Just let me have peace of mind. It's been a rough couple of hours.”

“How did you find me?”

“They forgot to turn your phone off,” he muttered resignedly picking him up. 

“I can walk!”

Derek ignored him walking up the stairs. It was heavy with the smell of blood, the rest of the hunters killed by the others. Scott rushed over, his eyes wild with worry when he reached them.

“Is he...?”

“I'm fine, I'm just his damsel in distress,” Stiles answered for him. “Where's my dad?”

Derek got Stiles to the hospital fast, his hand interlocked into his the whole time. Everyone was relieved and concerned for him once they arrived and got him checked over. He didn't know how to speak or answer questions when people asked him if he was okay. He didn't matter. Stiles was okay, he was okay, their boy was okay, and there was no harm to them. Nothing but Stiles who was shaken up and ordered by Melissa and the doctor to have bed rest. It had been a stressful time for both of them. 

“You're blaming yourself aren't you?” Stiles questioned him. They were home and Stiles was lying in bed with a mug of sweet tea and toast. “Derek, don't do this.”

“I let them take you.”

“Bullshit! How many times does this happen?”

“Too many!” he argued. “I should have been there, I should have looked after you and they hurt you. I was – I was so scared. You were gone and there was nothing I could do. God, I could – I could smell your blood and I let you down.”

“Let me down?” Stiles murmured confused. “Hey, look at me! You didn't let me down and I don't blame you, fuck this would have happened either way. I was target, a simple target, they knew I was yours. They wanted you dead, asshole! Not that they would have succeeded but instead of wallowing in it, stop wallowing and realize we are okay. Both of us, look, feel.”

Stiles grabbed his hand and pressed it against the top. He was kicking, a constant thump under his hands.

“Doing somersaults now because his daddy is here. Wouldn't move in the house, scared me to death because I could hear his heartbeat but couldn't feel him. Now though, now he's kicking because he knows he's home and he knows you're here. Nothing is going to happen, nothing, come here.”

Stiles opened his arms and tugged him forward. Derek buried his face into his neck and pushed him down so they could lie side by side. 

“I love you, you big idiot,” Stiles whispered against his ear.

“I can't lose you, I can't,” he whispered into the skin of his neck. “I can't.” 

“You won't, I'm not going anywhere, ever,” Stiles promised into his hair. “Going to be you, me, and our baby. I promise.”

Derek shut his eyes tight listening to Stiles' promises, his fingers trailing into his hair with gentle strokes, the baby kicking in between them. They fell asleep like that and he woke up the next morning feeling heavy and tired. Stiles was asleep curled towards him, dark smudges under his eyes, there was a tightness to his lips and a frown in between his eyebrows. He hated it. It was instinct to lean in and kiss in between his eyebrows and lips till they faded and he looked a lot more relaxed in his sleep. 

What surprised him when he came downstairs was to find the pack sleeping his living room. Jackson and Lydia curled together on sleeping bags, Scott and Allison the same, Isaac on one of the seats. Erica and Boyd were awake with coffee when he walked in and raised an eyebrow in question.

“Sorry, we didn't want to disturb you both. So we stayed over, wanted to make sure you were all okay,” Erica answered, her shoulders dropping up and down in a shrug. Derek let it pass and nodded brushing a hand down her arm gently in comfort. “He is okay, right?”

“They're fine, he needs rest,” he answered gently. Coffee was his savior when he poured a cup and sighed deeply taking a sip. “Chris dispose of the bodies?”

“Yeah,” she replied. “Big bonfire. Told me to tell you it wouldn't happen again.”

Derek didn't bother replying. He couldn't trust that, he left them to it to make breakfast and headed back upstairs to be with Stiles. It was creepy to watch him sleep and Stiles often told him off for doing it. His eyes tracked down his face anyway and he sighed softly, his hand reaching out to stroke his cheek gently. 

“Why are you awake?” Stiles mumbled, opening his eyes to look at him. 

“I woke up.”

“No shit,” he muttered, rolling over to lie on his back. “God, he's pressing on my bladder, help me up.”

Derek hauled him out and watched him pad to the bathroom and return smelling minty fresh.

“Ah, that's better, can I smell waffles?” 

“Pack's here, probably be Isaac cooking.”

“Shit, I want waffles.”

“Bed,” Derek ordered. “You heard the doctor.”

“I'm not supposed to be here forever!” Stiles cried, climbing into the bed anyway. 

“You were kidnapped yesterday, Stiles, you're nearly eight months pregnant. Stay in bed or I lock you down and you won't like that.”

“So mean, it's the beginnings of Stockholm Syndrome!” Stiles shouted at him. Derek rolled his eyes getting the waffles and pancakes Isaac was cooking onto a plate. 

“Hey, that's my chocolate sauce!” Jackson cried.

“I have a pregnant omega, deal with it,” he said over his shoulder. Stiles was waiting leaning against the headboard when he walked in holding the tray. 

“Did I tell you I love you so much,” Stiles said sweetly.

“Eat your breakfast.”

“I'll give you a blow job later,” he mumbled. 

Derek choked a little on air and smirked when Scott downstairs retched.

“Stiles!”

“Hey, my house, my mate, my mouth, you're in my territory, buddy!” Stiles shouted back at him. “I'll make it sloppy for you.”

“Shut up, please just shut up,” Derek murmured, his eyes closing at Erica's whistle downstairs. 

“If you're really lucky,” Stiles muttered, holding up a piece of pancake and meeting his eyes. “I'll rim that ass!”

There was a chorus of groans and laughing from downstairs that had Derek face planting the bed. Stiles laughed delighted and unfazed as he ate his breakfast happily.

*

The birth was approaching and approaching fast. Stiles was house bound till the birth, which he hated and his moods shown it. Derek often had to shy away when Stiles was feeling particularly vicious with him. The nursery was done though, a bassinet was in the living room and their bedroom, a crib lay against the wall, the walls were painted baby blue and white. It was rather beautiful and perfectly suited for their baby. 

The closer the due date came though, the more frantic he felt. The darkness inside of me peaked from time to time. His dreams worse and worse as the days passed and he dreamed of fire. Fire consuming the whole house, he's always stood outside watching the flames burn the house down with Stiles and the baby inside. His panic wakes him up in a cold sweat, Stiles sleeping soundly next to him. It consumes him with every breath and it won't ever stop. 

“I'm so fat, look at how fat I am, look at me,” Stiles whined. 

“You're full with our child.”

“Yeah, full and fat. Bloated, my ankles hurt, I waddle, waddle!” he shouted, tossing a pillow at him so he caught it and placed it down. “This is your fault.”

“Sorry,” he answered.

“Not sorry enough, getting me pregnant, god sake.”

Derek hid his smile and simply agreed with a hum. It was easier to agree then argue with his weak arguments. 

“No, don't touch me, don't be near me. You come near me and I'll snap your dick off,” Stiles warned, shoving him away. Derek cupped over his jeans, a grimace on his face at the idea. Derek left him to it and headed downstairs to get a book to read. He was a chapter in when he heard Stiles call him weakly.

“Yes?”

“I'm sorry.”

“It's fine.”

“Come here,” he murmured, holding out a hand to him to take. Derek joined him and wrapped an arm around him so he could rest his cheek on his chest. He was heavy and round plus uncomfortable and Derek didn't blame him.

“I'm scared about labor.”

“It's going to be okay.”

“Yeah, I know, but...still...” he murmured. “Still scared.”

“I'll be there the whole time.”

“I know.”

It didn't take long at all. It was a week after that conversation that Stiles was downstairs getting a cup out of the sink when it happened. Derek was splashing cold water onto his face and paused listening to a cup shatter on the floor.

“DEREK!” Stiles shouted hysterically. “I'M LEAKING OUT MY ASS!”

“Waters,” he muttered, jumping down the stairs. 

“Hey, we've had this conversation, no more jumping down a flight of fucking stairs.”

“Is this really the time?”

“Yes!” Stiles argued. 

“For fuck...” he trailed off. “Come on, I've got the bag.”

“Oh my god, this is happening!” he flailed hard. “Ah!”

“Come on, I have you,” he said calmly. “It's going to be okay.”

Stiles made a small sound but didn't argue, his hand was clutched tight into his and he shushed him gently. The contractions were every five minutes and he helped Stiles breathe through them all till they arrived at the hospital. It was like a fire burning inside of him when he stepped back a little to let the nurse and doctor deal with him. It was happening, it was finally here, nine months of waiting and he was coming. 

It terrified him, his heart pounded in his chest and he held Stiles' hand tight into his. 

“Oh god, what if I die?”

“Stop it, you're not going to die,” Derek snapped sternly. Stiles whimpered, his teeth pressing into his bottom lip. The guilt burned through him like acid and he moved sitting on the bed and pulling him into a tight hug. “It's okay, I'm here, it's going to be okay.”

Kisses were pressed into his hair when he consoled him and helped keep the hysteria down to a minimum. It was a long process and Stiles couldn't sit down too long because of the pain. They had to wait till he was ready and that could be a long time from now. John came into the room an hour after they had arrived. There was a look of sympathy on his face when he caught sight of Stiles pacing and cursing.

“Oh it brings back memories of your mother with you.”

“This sucks!” Stiles cried. 

“I know but he'll be here soon.”

“Easy for you to say.”

John grimaced in sympathy to him and sat down in an available seat. Stiles fell into his arms when he offered them and he rubbed his back gently. Derek wasn't lying about the long process of it all. Stiles managed to get an hour sleep once he had enough drugs in his system to do it, not once did he let go of his hand. Derek watched him sleep, the heart monitor of the baby in the background. John was tapping away on his phone and he could sense the pack in the waiting room. They were all waiting in anticipation for the arrival and he sighed deeply sitting back. 

In a matter of hours he would be a father. 

“Five hours, he's a trooper,” John said gently.

“They won't deliver till the baby is ready.”

“You look pale.”

“I'm fine,” he murmured, staring down at their joined hands. “Just...nervous.”

“Perfectly reasonable, every parent feels the same.”

“Feels different, just don't want to let them down,” Derek murmured. 

John frowned leaning forward, his hands clasped together as he eyed him carefully. “I know you can protect them, even before you got together, I know you were protecting him.”

“It's easy to protect, to prevent, it's a little harder.”

“Shit happens son, we just need to find a way to move on from it. But I know that nothing will happen, not to these two, we've had our tragedy. Let's have the happy ending,” John said gently. Derek blinked surprised and looked up at him. Stiles groaned awake before he could say anything, his eyes fluttering open when he bent over panting in pain. Derek immediately stood ringing the buzzer and shushed him gently, his hand pressed to his bump to take some of the pain away. 

“It's time,” the nurse announced. 

Stiles met Derek's eyes before glancing at the nurse again. “Well, fuck.”

He kissed him softly, a gentle reassurance everything would be okay. Derek never left his side, never let go of his hand through the whole process of it. The moment his son was born into the world it took the breath away from him from the first scream. Dark tuft of blood soaked hair, pink and wriggling and so tiny. Stiles choked on air when they saw him for the first time and he was handed over to him. Skin to skin contact was important, especially for new born pups. Derek tugged off his top and held him close to his chest, a rumble in his chest had the crying cease, his tiny palm pressed against his skin as he did. This life was his to protect and he swallowed hard staring down at him. 

The nurse soon took him away to be looked over and Stiles stared up at him exhausted and emotional. His eyes shining with tears so he leaned in and kissed him tenderly. 

“He's beautiful.”

“Looks like you,” Stiles muttered, a smile tugging at his lips. “He's so small!”

“Here you go, sweetheart.” the nurse said walking over holding him wrapped in a white blanket. Stiles held out his arms to take him and sucked in a deep breath. 

“Hi,” he whispered, offering him his finger. 

“What's his name?” the nurse asked politely.

“He's Jamie, Jamie Hale,” Stiles answered. “Yes, look at you, you're so small and oh we have brown eyes. Your papa will be so pleased! You're so beautiful, yes you are.” 

They were wheeled into recovery soon after and he sat on the chair watching the two of them. Stiles scent was heavy with exhaustion and pain but he didn't act on it. His devotion and love shining down on Jamie who was quiet in his arms. The others were allowed in not longer after they flied into the room. Each one of them having their turn at holding and cooing over him. 

“Oh he's a little beauty,” John said softly. “Looks like you when you were a baby, Stiles.”

“He does not, he looks like Derek!” Stiles protested weakly. Jamie began to wail hungrily and Derek took him off him shushing him gently.

“Needs his bottle,” Stiles murmured pressing the buzzer for the nurse. Derek had first feed when he sat on the chair and pushed the nipple into his mouth gently. He sucked tentatively till he relaxed and wrapped his hand around his finger. He was strong already, it sent his heart into double time watching him suck onto the bottle. His eyes focused on him before drifting around the room.

“Look at my two guys,” Stiles murmured sleepily.

“Try and get some sleep, you need to heal.”

“I'll be fine,” he slurred, closing his eyes and finally drifting off. Derek smirked fondly, his eyes refocusing on Jamie in his arms. He loved him so much already, it burned through him like fire. Consuming and powerful. It was one of the missing pieces of his heart, it would never be fully healed but it was a very good start. 

“I'll never let anyone hurt you,” he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. 

*

Derek stuck to that promise. But the problem with sticking to it was that he never let Jamie out of his arms. If he wasn't in Stiles' arms or one of the packs or even in his bassinet, he was with him. It was safer with him, at night he was in their bedroom and in their bed with the two of them.

“He won't put him down.”

Derek paused in the bedroom from were he was dressing Jamie that morning. Lydia was downstairs with Stiles helping him fold the laundry up.

“Seriously, he's always holding him, if I'm not holding him then he is. Jamie even sleeps in the same bed as us. Not that I'm complaining but...I think he's scared.”

“Scared?”

“Of something happening to him! I caught him on the computer yesterday, he was looking up SIDS,” he said softly. Derek swallowed hard bringing Jamie up to rest against his stomach. He cooed into his ear happily.

“Sudden infant death syndrome, like what the hell?” Stiles sighed deeply. “He keeps having bad dreams. Thinks I don't know that he wakes up sweating and panicking, he talks in his sleep. Whispers into the night about fire and smoke and death.”

“Are you surprised? He's had a lot of shit in his life.”

“We all have, we're surrounded in it! Doesn't mean anything is going to happen.”

Derek drowned it out after that, he rubbed Jamie's back gently and headed downstairs. Stiles stood up the moment he came in and gently eased Jamie off him.

“You need a shower and a shave. You also need to chill out,” Stiles murmured, gripping the back of his neck and kissing him gently. “Seriously, an hours nap as well.”

“I'm fine.”

“Bullshit, go,” Stiles ordered, and pointed at the stairs. Derek exhaled heavily before agreeing and heading back upstairs for a shower and a shave. It actually felt good to have the hot water pour over him and to trim the beard down so he didn't look like a wild man. The nap wasn't necessary and he returned downstairs to find Lydia gone, Stiles on the couch with Jamie asleep on his chest. 

“Hey, there's Derek, not the wild man stealing my pup,” he greeted.

“Funny.”

“You know you need to chill it don't you?”

“How is wanting to hold my son a crime now?”

“There's no crime, none at all, holding Jamie and having him sleep with us isn't a crime. But holding him and never putting him down, watching him sleep because you're so scared something will happen to him isn't as good. You need to let him play and be with the others and sleep in his crib. He's not going to die, Derek.”

“I know, I know, it's just...my dreams...”

“Of us dying in a fire?” he stated, pushing up to place Jamie in his bassinet. “Yeah, I know you heard me talking to Lydia. I wanted you to hear. Because we're not going to die in a fire and we're not going to be killed by any hunters or werewolves or anything. You need to realize this before it makes you sick, Derek. Realize how fortunate we are, that the last five years has been you and me and now we have our pup. Soon he'll grow up and maybe we'll add a few more along the way. Yeah we're going to get the odd shit situation, maybe a werewolf pack will come in, maybe we'll get the odd hunter, but we always fight back. I thought we'd all have learned that by now.”

“I just can't lose you,” Derek murmured.

“I know.”

“Both of you now.”

“We're not going anywhere,” Stiles said, climbing into his lap and kissing him softly. “Do you trust me?”

“Stiles.”

“Answer me!”

“You know I do!” 

“Then trust me on this,” he pleaded with him. His eyes wide and earnest as they stared into his and he swallowed tightly. 

“Okay, okay,” he agreed nodding his head. “I'll ease up.”

“Good,” Stiles whispered. His arms wound tight around him and he hugged him close to him. Derek inhaled deeply, the warm comforting scent of him surrounded him and he basked in it. They stayed like that till Jamie woke from his nap and Stiles stood to get his bottle ready. Derek scooped him up and breathed in the smells attached to him. Jamie didn't have his own individual smell as yet but instead smelled of them, baby powder, the sweetness of his milk, and laundry detergent. His eyes were wide and open when he pulled him back to look at him. 

“Here we go,” Stiles said, passing him the bottle. “He's greedy.”

“Well we both know were he got that from.”

“I have a healthy appetite!” Stiles protested. Derek rolled his eyes sitting down with him to do so. “So will he, he's just greedy and loves his milk a lot. I've invited my dad and Melissa around tomorrow for dinner, I was thinking lasagna.”

“Sounds good.”

Once Jamie was fed and burped, he was content to lie on their laps. His eyes looking around and taking everything in. 

“Such a beautiful boy,” Stiles whispered kissing his nose. Jamie made a small sound, his gloved hands skimming his face gently. “We have good genes.”

Derek hummed in agreement bringing Jamie up to nuzzle his soft cheek gently. “Very good genes.”

That night, Stiles got into bed and leaned against the headboard watching him. Jamie was warm and fed and sleepy when he placed him down in his bassinet. His pacifier slotted into his mouth so he sucked on it lazily.

“See, was that so hard?” Stiles whispered. 

“No, it's just...being apart from him,” Derek answered, his mouth twisting as he got into the bed and switched the lamp light off. “I can hear him, smell him, but it's not the same.”

“He'll be fine, he'll sleep better plus so will we.”

“I know, I know,” he repeated with a bob of his head. Stiles curled into his arms, his arm slotting around his neck so he could press their foreheads together. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being you,” he answered simply. “For being with me and giving me a son.”

“Oh,” Stiles smiled. “Well, you're very welcome for the hours of labor and hard work bringing him into the world. Plus I'm awesome.”

Stiles had been right about that and right about a good night sleep. For the first time in months he dreamed of Jamie, Stiles, and no fire. He woke up every time Jamie cried and he watched through tired eyes while Stiles fed him before rocking him to sleep. There was a soft lullaby that he sang sometimes that calmed Jamie right down. In that moment when he lay against the soft sheets of their bed, Stiles stood in the dim light of the lamp rocking him back and forth he knew. He knew that despite his fears, the consuming and overwhelming darkness that held him tight, that everything in the end was going to be okay. You get some treasures in life, some are overlooked and unappreciated, but these were his to treasure and his to protect. No matter what.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt:
> 
> Imagine you OTP having their first child. Person B stays up all night making sure their child is sleeping, and also holds the baby all day. After a while, person A convinces person B to let the baby sleep in the crib and finally get a good night’s sleep.  
> (Turned into a 9000 word fic, whoops)
> 
> I do take prompts so if you have anything, suggest and I may write it. :)


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